I Cause All Sorts Of Trouble
by Whispatchet
Summary: Codename: Spelt With a C. Life at the Ark has always been a bit weird. But with the newest Autobot to join the ranks hanging around, things are going to get a lot stranger.
1. Introduction: Drugged Up

He hated him.

Hated, hated, and downright _HATED_ that mech with every fibre of his white and red being. There was no end to the amount the medic hated him. The reason?

He had saved him.

First from Decepticons, then from Autobots, then from himself. This put him _thrice_ in his debt.

He had said not to worry about it, that he'd do the same for any Autobot, that he'd for sure be needing him to save him at least once during this high-ranks quarrel that passes as a war.

But he _did_ worry about it. And he hated it. Which made him hate _him._

And it didn't help that he wanted to spend as much time in medical as possible for non-medical reasons. Knowing this, he knew for sure that the black armoured bane of his existence was sitting in the medbay somewhere. Just sitting there, or talking to Swoop and/or First Aid about one medical thing or another, it didn't matter. He was still _there._

He hated to admit it, he hated to hate him, but how could you not hate someone who broke all your barriers so effectively? He hated to hate him, but he hated him because he loved him.

Ratchet hated Arcdash because he loved him.

- - -

In his wisdom, Ratchet was right. Arcdash was indeed, inside the medbay. And again right in thinking the black custom Datsun was talking to First Aid and Swoop. But he didn't count on Bluestreak being there, or Ironhide. And they weren't talking about medical stuff, they were talking about _him._ Or rather, how Arcdash met him.

"…so you really don't remember how you got out there?" Bluestreak was asking.

Arcdash shook his head at the white Datsun. "Not in the slightest. I remember waking up in the middle of nowhere, then coming across the trio of personified arrogance."

"Th' seeker trio?" Ironhide concluded. "What were they doing in our area?"

"I didn't ask, they didn't tell." Arcdash said with a shrug. "Anyway, I came across them trying to beat up on Ratchet and Wheeljack. They weren't hurt too much, but the seekers had them pinned so that should they move, they'd be reduced to atoms."

First Aid cocked his head to one side. "I don't remember Ratchet and Wheeljack being injured when they brought you back."

"Oh no." Arc's tone was amused. "Ratch fixed Wheeljack on the spot, and pretty much forced him to fix him before hauling my sorry carcass here."

"He never told me that."

"Never told anyone that. But Wheeljack on the other hand… well, he fears Ratchet a lot less than most."

There was a murmur of agreement from his quite captive audience.

"So, I came along and distracted the three long enough for Ratch and 'Jack to get out of the way, and, now three to three, we handed their afts to them. Then, because I was apparently so low on Energon I would have starved to death in a day or two, I passed out right then an' there."

"Him Ratchet never tell me Swoop interesting things."

Arc smiled at the Dinobot. "Ratchet doesn't like to blab." He said. "But you know, it didn't really stop with them bringing me here and getting me back on my feet."

"It didn't?" Ironhide cocked an optic ridge at the young black mech before inclining his head as an indication to continue.

"Nope." The mech paused, all but sensing Ratchet stirring inside his office. He smiled and continued. "Well, and you might remember this, Ironhide, but, the day after I was booted out of medical and knighted an official Autobot by Prime, Ratchet had something of an altercation with… oh who was it? Tracks?"

"Oh yeh. I remember that hootenanny." The red mech nodded. "Or, at least the aftermath. I wasn't there."

Arc nodded. "Mmm hmm. I'm of the opinion that Tracks was tanked out of his mind, but he and Ratch were throwing curses and threats back and forth like a volley ball. It wasn't very loud, for whatever reason, so no one really heard it. I never strayed too far from the med bay, not knowing the rest of the complex, so I came across it with ease. Eventually, just as the twins were helping Prowl to med bay from the other end of the corridor, Tracks took a swing at Ratch. Ratch took a swing back, and planted one red fist square in the guy's face. Sides, Sunny and Prowl didn't see Tracks' go first, only Ratchet pegging Tracks in the nose. They, well, Sunny, started yelling about Ratch going off the deep end, and that drew up the crowd. Poor Ratchet, he was suddenly the target of yelled accusations of assault and stuff, and couldn't get a word in edgeways. That's when I stepped in and shut everyone up quick smart."

"You didn't yell at them, did you?" Bluestreak asked, firmly believing that Arcdash was not the type to yell, in anger or otherwise. Not even to be heard over a din.

"Nope. Seeing as there were so many voices going off, yelling would only hurt my vocaliser. So I got their attention another way."

"You borrowed Blaster and turned the volume up all the way?" the white Datsun attempted, trying to think of a good way to get people's attention in that situation.

"Blue, had I thought of that then, it pro'lly would have been better."

"No, Blue, he did somethin' worse than that." Ironhide levelled Bluestreak with a flat expression, before shifting trajectory to Arcdash. "He shot Prowl."

Bluestreak's optics went as round as saucers.

"Yup. Pulled out my rifle, drew a bead on our dear tactician, who was already injured by the way, and fired. I got off about eight shots before everyone shut up to watch each one strike the mark. The mark which was, as well as Prowl, Sides and Sunny too. The twins caught one in the face each, Sunny got one in the chest as well. The other five ploughed into Prowl's shoulders, chest and door wings. The three of them crumpled to the ground, and everyone looked at me. As calmly as possible after actually _shooting_ three Autobots, I stowed my gun and asked them which was worse. Ratchet fixed them all up fine, and I was put in the brig by Red Alert, but Prime let me out a few hours later."

"Why him Prime let you out?" Swoop asked.

"I told him what happened, and he believed me." Arc said gently. "That and he looked at some security footage Red didn't look at. Prime understood I was trying to help Ratchet, but stuck me on monitor duty with Sargent Spazz for a week as punishment for shooting Prowl and the twins."

"That was awfully lenient on Prime's part." First Aid mentioned. "I doubt if the same thing happened with someone else in your place, the punishment would have been severe."

"I guess it would. I haven't gotten around to asking Prime why he was so nice to me."

His audience was rapt. Arcdash certainly was enjoying the storyteller role.

"There was a third thing wasn't there?" Blue asked. "You said there were three things! What's part three?"

The black Datsun chuckled slightly. "Ah… that…" He stopped himself and tilted his head slightly to one side to look in a different direction. Ironhide noticed the movement and, without an ounce of subtlety, looked around the med bay. There was nothing that he could see, and he looked back to the black mech in time to see him shake his head.

"The third part, Blue, is better told by him." He said softly. "Good luck with that though."

"Leave us in suspense why don'tcha, Arc." Ironhide huffed with a slight smile. But the big red warrior pretty much knew part three. And it was in Ratchet's, and Arcdash's, best interests to keep it reasonably quiet. He stood and stretched his arms over his head, joints popping. "Well, I'm heading to the lounge. Care t' join me? Blue? Aid? Swoop?"

"Sounds like a good idea to me!" Bluestreak chirped as the three stood, before looking at the black Autobot. "What about you Arc? You coming?"

"Nah. I'm good, thanks anyway, Blue."

It took minutes afterward, but then Arcdash was alone in the med bay.

Well, mostly.

"Fragging bleeding spark, you are."

Arcdash smiled and turned, the CMO's appearance having not surprised him in the least. "Would you have preferred I divulge your every weakness to them?"

Ratchet grimaced slightly. Very slightly.

"I notice I didn't surprise you." He said after a pause.

"Please. I have radar as far as you're concerned."

Ratchet's expression was blank. "You have radar _anyway._"

Arcdash shrugged. "Ratchet radar VS. Regular radar, Regular radar loses."

Ratchet grunted and looked uncomfortable. The black mech smiled. "Ratchet. You have a mate. You're bonded. To Wheeljack."

"I know _damnit!!_ That's why this is so fragging _hard!!!_"

"It's not that hard. Find Wheeljack. Stay with him. Remind yourself why you love him so much."

The white and red mech growled and with lightning quickness, slammed Arcdash into a wall.

"I haven't forgotten why. I don't need to be reminded. He _knows_. I know him too."

"Mate Link."  
"Mate fragging Link." Ratchet removed his hand from Arc's shoulder, and moved it to his cheek. "Something _you_ won't understand."

"Because I don't have a mate. Until I have one, I won't understand." The black mech looked thoughtful. "I could always ask Wheeljack if he's willing to share you."

"Try it, and I'll kill you." Ratchet growled, drawing his hand away. "If he shares me, that means I have to share _him_, and we have to share _you_. Besides, he doesn't…" He trailed off.

"And yet you do." Arc observed in a quiet voice. "Whatever I have done to earn that honour."

Ratchet turned away. "He was in here." He touched a hand to his chest. "But you were… out here."

"Needs of the body, needs of the mind?" Arc suddenly laughed his charming laugh. "Ratchet, Ratchet, dear funny Ratchet. I gave you a _hug,_ because you were depressed. And I seem to recall that you nearly took my head off with a monitor afterwards." He stepped closer to the taller mech and looked right into his face. "If you fell in love with everyone who cared, you would be in love with everyone here." He smiled. "Or is that why… you don't let anyone close?"

Ratchet growled and whipped his fist around, ploughing it into Arcdash's face causing him to topple over, before storming out of the med bay. Arc sat up and stared at the doorway after the medic's retreat for a few moments before standing up.

"Dear me, I've made things worse."

A figure appeared in the doorway, and Arcdash brightened.

"Have you been teasing him again?"

Arc chuckled. "Not teasing, per se, Wheeljack, no."

Wheeljack's head fins glowed blue with a smile. "You should stop bothering him."

"That would be better for the sake of the two of you." Arc agreed. "But the trouble is, this isn't really one sided."

Wheeljack sighed. "I had figured that much."

"I don't mean to be a pain."

"Of course not!" Wheeljack stepped closer to the black Datsun. "I know that. It just makes matters a lil' complicated when you and my mate fall for each other."

"I saved him, he saved me."

"Then you assaulted a senior officer to protect him! Do you realise that sort of gesture is rare?"

Arc looked down.

Wheeljack shook his head. "Prime, by all rights, should have punished you a lot worse for that, Dash. He didn't, because Ratchet abandoned his dignity and all but begged Prime to let you go."

The black mech didn't look surprised.

The Lancia gently put a hand on Arcdash's head. "I know you mean well, Dash. That's why this is so complicated, because it's hard to be mad at you. If it was anyone else, really, I could just get on with being mad at whoever had distracted my mate from me and be done with it. But you. You're different."

"So I'm a pain and a freak."

Wheeljack placed his fingers on the black Datsun's chin and tilted it up. "No, you're not a freak. You're just mystically fall-in-love-with-able."

Arcdash stared into the mech's blue optics, before his own widened in realisation. "You're better at manipulating that Mate Link thing than Ratchet is, huh?"

"Damn straight. He can't hide anything from me, but I don't think he knows everything from my end."

The black mech was thoughtful. "Ratchet'll kill me, but, d'you wanna share?"

"Share? As in, a three way Mate Link?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

There was a pause as Wheeljack considered that. Then, the engineer unclipped his facemask and brought his lips to Arc's…

And Ratchet bolted up with a start. Had he been human, he would have been dripping in a cold sweat. Hell, he would have _drowned_ in it. He cycled air through his intakes quickly to try and calm himself down, and it worked… to a degree.

What a dream. Nightmare. But that's what it had to have been. He wasn't so open about his emotions. Wheeljack wasn't that serious. Arcdash wasn't that… loveable? Primus, that was mean to even think that. But that was the best way to say it. Mechs didn't melt at the thought of the black mech, least of all him! Certainly _not_ him and certainly _not_ Wheeljack! They had each other; they didn't need that little third wheel with the… simply… gorgeous black paint…

He belted his head against the wall. "Snap out of it, Ratchet." He ordered in his best CMO voice. "Reality called, they need their medic back."

A gentle hand suddenly curled itself around his torso and pulled him down. Alarmed, Ratchet let out a cry of surprise, but relaxed a moment later as the other mech pulled him back against the recharge platform and curled himself around the medic.

"Reality will have to either get on hold or leave a message." Said the grey white mech with a blue glowing chuckle. "Because the medic is occupied."

Ratchet couldn't help but smile at that wisecrack. Oh yeah, _that_ was why he was bonded with Wheeljack. The boxy mech nuzzled at the Lancia's neck with a sigh.

"So." Wheeljack said gently. "You want to tell me why you're not returning Reality's calls?"

Ratchet grumbled something inaudible, before sharing his dream through the link they shared. There was a contemplative pause.

"Which part was the nightmare?" The engineer asked. "You loving him, or me loving him?"

"Both." Ratchet growled. "And I pray to Primus neither is true."

"It's not." Ratchet snapped up to look at the engineer with wide optics. "What? I know how you feel, and you know how I feel. That's all there is to it."

"But… I…"

"…have me as a mate and him as a friend." Wheeljack offered a chuckle before levelling his mate with a serious expression. "He really did shoot Prowl for you, you know."

"I was rather hoping that you wouldn't say that. That means I surrendered my dignity to get him out." The CMO started to sulk on Wheeljack's chestplate.

Wheeljack removed his mask and kissed the medic on the forehead. "Your CPU really is scrambled. Arcdash is still in the brig, Boyo."

"Huh?"

"That only happened yesterday."

Ratchet tried to recall, but he couldn't. The memory was just not there. So he tried to remember what the Arcdash in his dream had said about the incident instead.

"That means the twins and Prowl are still hurt! I gotta…!"

"You gotta keep your aft here." Wheeljack said firmly, holding the medic still as he tried to get up. "Primus, whatever they gave you, although it worked, I'm going to insist it be outlawed in every form of the word."

Now that got Ratchet's attention.

"…What?"

The engineer looked a little sheepish. "You were doing a Red Alert on us, Ratch. Freaking over Dash in the brig, panicking because of Prowl and the Twins and being yelled at by a hoard of misinformed Autobots. Your hands were shaking so bad you could hardly hold your tools properly. So, Aid gave you a cube of Energon with some strange sedative in it. It was just supposed to calm you down, but you calm is you sleepy so you passed out. Aid thinks he may have overdone it a little too. The poor guy was right too, it garbled your memory banks a little… and, by the sounds of it… the side effect is best described as… our equivalent to human endorphins."

"Endorphins?"

"It's the chemical in the human brain that makes them feel like they're in love."

Ratchet looked horrified. First Aid, his primary assistant, had drugged him? _Him?!_ First Aid sent him on a drug trip that made him feel like he was _in love with Arcdash?!?!_ Ooooooooooh, he was SO going to _pay!_

"Aid, Swoop and I fixed the twins and Prowl. They're all still in the med bay still." Wheeljack assured him. "But don't hurt Aid. He did the right thing, and even asked Prime first. Prime decided to use it as a way to enforce some rest on your part, medic."

"WHAT?!"

Wheeljack grinned and kissed Ratchet again. "You're on enforced rest leave for the next two days, Ratchet mine." He hugged the shorter mech. "So sit back and enjoy it."

Ratchet leaned into Wheeljack in a quiet sulk. After a few minutes though, his thoughts refused to be contained any longer.

"…Why Arcdash though?" He asked in a whispered voice.

"You were worried about him the most." Came the engineer's simple and quite obvious answer.

There was a pause as Ratchet milled over that. Then the medic pushed himself away from Wheeljack and stood up. "What do you think you're doin'?" The Lancia asked.

"I'm going to the brig. I'm going to talk to him." He responded, heading for the door.

"You need to rest." Wheeljack insisted, grabbing the CMO's hand and not letting go.

"Slag resting to the Pit!"

"At least wait til the endorphins wear off?"

Ratchet paused, feeling his mate reach out to him not only through touch, but through their link. He hesitated for a moment. Then another moment. Then a third moment, and Wheeljack knew he had him. He couldn't help but smirk when the red and white mech turned and headed back to him.

"You're an extortionist." The medic grumbled, burying his face in the engineer's chest and curling his arms around him.

"Aw, you know you love me."


	2. Content: Locked In

The black mech absentmindedly tapped his foot to an imaginary beat as he sat in his cell. Nope, the Autobots had not been impressed. But, it got the job done.

A thought crossed his mind and he absently started rummaging around in his subspace pocket. Red Alert wasn't daft enough to not confiscate his weapons, and other tools that he could potentially use to get out or hurt someone. Granted, that didn't leave him with a lot of stuff. Eh, he probably wasn't supposed to be entertained down here anyway. But it had been two days already. He was… a little empty. He closed his subspace with a sigh, and, putting his hands behind his head and leaning back.

"So."

He looked up at the sound of a voice, and spotted the tall form of Optimus Prime walking towards his cell.

"Optimus!" Said the black mech. "Come to let me out, or is this a social visit?"

Prime levelled him with a glare. "I gave you my trust, Arcdash." He said darkly. "And then you shoot two of my warriors and one of my officers. I'd like to give you a chance to explain yourself."

Arcdash smiled and stood up. "Social visit it is." He lifted his hand to his chest. "I owed Ratchet a favour."

Prime arched a brow at that. "You repaid him by shooting my second in command and the twins?"

"They were convenient." Arcdash said with a shrug. "Ratchet and some other guy… Tracks, I think, were arguing. Tracks took a swing at Ratchet, and Ratchet swung back. He hit Tracks in the face. The twins and the tactician came around the corridor corner when Tracks got hit. Sunstreaker started yelling at him, and other people started showing up. They saw Ratch's fist, and Tracks on the floor with half his face dented in, and came to their own conclusions. Ratchet couldn't get a word in over everyone's yelling, so he couldn't explain himself. I don't have the vocal capacity to try and make myself heard over that sort of noise." He offered a dramatic sigh. "I don't have a logic computer like Prowl. My only thought was to get Ratchet out of trouble, so, I pegged them to get myself in _bigger_ trouble so the Autobots would forget what _he_ did."

"Do you realise what punishment Red Alert is demanding?"

Arcdash smirked. "Nothing short of deactivating me, I'm sure." He chuckled a little before looking up into Prime's wise optics with a soft and trusting expression. "But it's not Red's call. It's yours. You're the Prime, so you have to determine wether you believe me or not."

"You want me to believe."

"That's preferable, of course." The custom Datsun sat down on the floor, crossing his legs under him. "But in the end, it doesn't matter. I know for sure that they will live; Ratchet, First Aid, Swoop, and Wheeljack will see to it. So long as Ratchet is not in trouble for hitting Tracks, I don't care what happens to me."

"He's not."

"Then I don't care what happens to me." And Prime thought he sounded sincere.

"I will have to punish you. One does not simply attack other Autobots and get away without retribution." Prime looked thoughtful. "However, in this case, I think the ones to decide should be those involved."

Arcdash arched an optic ridge at the Prime. "You're going to leave my fate in the hands of Prowl? And Sideswipe? And _Sunstreaker?!_ Ouch."

Prime could not resist a chuckle.

"Am I to stay here until then?"

"That is the protocol."

"Heh. At least till Sunny kills me, I'll be safe."

Prime shock his head in a chastising way. "Sunstreaker won't kill you. Autobots do not kill…"

"…Anyone but Decepticons." Arcdash cut in with a wry smile. "Just as well I dun' wear purple."

"No, but you do wear black. And shadows are hard to trust."

"Aww, Prime. How could you not trust this face?" The mech chuckled, and settled down in his sitting position further. "Very well, Prime. I shall wait here until the council of three reaches a decision."

Prime found he had nothing else to say to the young mech, so, with a nod of his head, turned and left the brig.

Several hours later, the custom Datsun found he had another visitor… one he hadn't been expecting.

"Dash."

"Ratchet? Let me guess, you've come to kick my skidplate because I shot the twins and Prowl, leaving you to fix 'em?"

Ratchet's level stare didn't waver. "Wheeljack and the others fixed them. They drugged me and forced me into some rest days."

Arcdash blinked. "They drugged _you?_ Ouch. Parts went a flyin' for that one, I'm sure."

Ratchet took a seat near the young Autobot's cell.

He sighed. "…Thanks, Dash."

"…eh?" The black mech stared. "Thanks? For… wha- …you're not actually _thanking_ me for shooting them, are you?!"

"It's not often someone will risk their own afts by assaulting a ranking officer in order to protect someone." Ratchet said in a drawl. "I guess I just wanted to say thankyou for that. I'll… I'll try and talk Sunstreaker out of atomizing you."

"Thanks, Ratch. I'd appreciate it. But you don't have to wo-"

"Shut up! I do too!"

Arcdash shut up.

"Don't even say it. Don't even think it! I _do_ have to worry about you, and I don't _care_ if you would do it for every other Autobot who ever laid their optics on you! What you would do means nothing! Only what you _did_ matters!"

Arcdash blinked in surprise. "Jeez, Ratch, what _did_ they spike your drink with?"

"Dunno, to be honest. Haven't gotten around to asking First Aid yet."

The black mech smiled at the white. "Ah well. It should wear off, right?"

"Yeah."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

Ratchet was quiet for a few moments, before standing up and heading for the door.

"Oh, hey, Ratchet?"

Ratchet paused at the door and turned his head to look at the Autobot in the cell.

"You're welcome."

Ratchet allowed himself a smile before leaving the brig.

Arcdash was confined to the brig for another week. He had remained remarkably cheerful over the whole thing, chatting with the Autobots who would bring him his Energon like it was business as usual. Bluestreak had even gone so far as to bring him a bookfile with which to pass the time.

When he was finally let out of the cell, he was mildly surprised to note that it was, in fact, the infamous Sunstreaker who had come to release him.

"Hey Suns. You got fixed up real nice." The black Datsun observed. "Sorry about that, man. That must have hurt."

"Just get your aft out here."

Arc didn't want to argue.

"So, what punishment have the three of you decided on?" He asked.

Sunstreaker held up a finger. "One: You attend all of Prowl's staff meetings, on time, best behaviour at all times, for a month."

The Datsun nodded. Prowl liked having people attend his meetings.

"Two: You take on monitor duty with Red Alert every night for a month, double shifts."

Arcdash arched an optic ridge, but nodded all the same. Sideswipe's doing, no doubt. Let's just hope Prowl didn't schedule any meetings during those two shifts. Presuming it was the same month. Heh. Loophole already.

"Three." The Lamborghini's tone changed. "I punch you in the face as hard as I can."

Arcdash chuckled. That was Sunstreaker all right. "Well, by all means, go for it. Just don't rattle my cortex too hard."

Sunstreaker cracked his knuckles. "I'll make no promises."

Arcdash smiled and braced for impact. _See you in a few, Ratch._


	3. Conflict Resolution: Revenge

Four months.

This is the average amount of time for a new Autobot adjust to living in the Ark, and fall into the same insane state of mind as the rest of them.

Arcdash, many mused, was the exception; he was insane when he got there.

The black Datsun's first four months had been quite… interesting, none the less; beginning with assault on three fellow Autobots, to the subsequent punishments for said assaults. Sunstreaker had hefted the smaller mech out of the brig, completely dazed, and quite concussed. Ratchet had had a field day over that.

But after he was released from med bay, he took his other punishments as part of the daily grind, offering, _actually offering_, to continue pulling frequent shifts with Red Alert, albeit single shifts rather then double, when it was over. And even after his month long punishment had concluded, he continued to show up to Prowl's meetings… well, most of them, and when he did, he was punctual, polite, and attentive.

It simply reinforced the belief that Arcdash was completely out of his mind.

The black Datsun, who was only a Datsun because the chrome word plastered across his rear bumper said so, who looked more like a mix of Prowl's alternate mode and Sideswipe's, with chrome-tinted windows and high gloss metallic black paint which, when polished, put that of Sunstreaker and Tracks to shame, mostly kept to himself. He did have a pretty good rapport with Ratchet and Wheeljack, and was very good friends with Jazz and Blaster; when the three of them were together, they could have sent Decepticons running with the volume of the music they played. After a while, they were instructed by Prime to play it over a closed link so not to bother the others. Things became… well, normal, with Arcdash around.

That was, until he became caught in one of Sideswipe's pranks.

It was a simple prank, the kind where if you're in the wrong place at the wrong time, you become the victim. Arcdash understood that. Sideswipe hadn't _intentionally_ targeted him, he hadn't _intentionally _put the tripwire in his path, he hadn't _intentionally_ sent him flying head over boot, skidding along the ground, which had been slicked down so he slid a fair way, before hitting the wall at the end of the corridor, and sticking to the wall with the help of some stolen adhesive. No, it hadn't been _intentional_ to catch the black mech.

But it_ had_ been intentional for Sideswipe to leave him there, stuck to the wall, for _five hours_. It _had_ been intentional for Sunstreaker, who couldn't have not known of the prank, to not come to let him down. He missed his shift with Red Alert, who eventually sent someone to go and find him.

Arcdash was silently of the opinion that the red and white Lamborghini _knew_ he was there, and opted to leave him there, although the black mech couldn't figure why he would… he supposed it was arrogance that came as a bonus with that thrice-blasted Italian alternate mode. This meant that it _had_ been intentional on Red Alert's part too. But Arcdash held no grudges. He was better than that.

Don't get mad, get even.

- - -

Red Alert awoke from recharge with a groan. He felt like he had been to the biggest party of the millennia… did they finally defeat the Decepticons for good? He put a hand to the side of his helm with a groan as he sat up. Hang over central.

The red and white Lamborghini did indeed recall drinking after his shift last night. Although he didn't think he had drunk enough High-Grade to give him such a pounding motherboard ache. Opening his optics, he looked around. His same old Earth quarters. So, sadly, no; the war was still on. Ah well, can't blame a mech for hoping.

He removed himself from the berth and palmed open his door. A nice warm mug of Energon (strictly non-intoxicating Mid-Grade for this hour of the day, thankyou) was just what he needed to clear his head.

As he wandered down the hallway, he began to notice a few things. It was very late in the morning. Quite late, actually. Normally he'd rise at around seven thirty local time, to begin his shift at nine. But, judging by the number of mechs about now, it had to be at _least_ nine thirty, close to ten o'clock. He began to panic a little, and broke into a run, his morning fix forgotten as he dashed to the security office.

When he reached his domain, he found Ironhide sitting in the Lamborghini's chair, muttering to himself.

"Ironhide!" Red Alert exclaimed in a breathless voice. "I am so sorry! Thankyou for covering for me, I'll take over."

But, and this seemed to surprise Red Alert, Ironhide ignored him. No, the Security Director decided after a moment, he wasn't being ignored. Ironhide just didn't hear him. He stepped closer and spoke louder.

"Ironhide?"

Still no response.

Red started to panic. "Are you ignoring me, Ironhide? Stop it!" Nothing. "Come on! I know you know I'm here!" Frustrated, the red and white mech grabbed the chair Ironhide was sitting in and spun it around so that the red mech was facing him.

The look on Ironhide's face was nothing short of alarmed. "Whut th' frag?" He looked to the left, the right, the left again, and then frowned. After a short pause, he slid off the chair and crouched beside it to check the springs under it.

"Bet th' springs are wound to tight." He muttered, reaching a hand under to feel them. "Jus' like the guy normally sitting in it."

Red Alert puffed himself up, feeling somewhat insulted by that comment. "I'll have you know that I…" He trailed off when Ironhide simply sat down and returned his view to the monitor.

"Wonder where Big Red got t' anyway." Ironhide mused to himself. "It's not like him to run off and miss a shift."

"But I'm RIGHT HERE!"

Just then, the door hissed open, making poor confused Red Alert jump, and in strolled Prowl; the black and white Tactician clearly hadn't been expecting to see Ironhide in Red Alert's chair, noted by the way he arched an optic ridge at the older mech.

"Prowl!" Red Alert exclaimed, stepping towards the Datsun. "Maybe you can cease this absurdity! Ironhide is ignoring me!"

Prowl then did the unthinkable. Not even reacting to the Lamborghini's presence in the room, the 2IC strode in a straight line past the red and white mech to stand beside Ironhide.

"What are you doing here?" Prowl asked.

"Covering Red's shift." Ironhide responded. "He never showed up this morning."

"Is he ill?"

"I'M RIGHT HERE DAMNIT!!"

"Naw, he's not in his quarters. I checked there first. Teletraan thinks he's still on base, but not exactly sure where."

"This is rather worrying." Prowl rubbed the back of his head. "It's not at all like Red Alert to go AWOL."

"I _haven't_! I'm _here_! Acknowledge my EXISTENCE!!" Red Alert could practically feel the circuits in his head beginning to frazzle as he pretty much begged his fellow Autobots to see him. Not that begging did his cause any good.

"I'll have the others keep an optic out for him. Hopefully he'll have a good explanation as to his absence." Prowl said with a sigh. He turned back to the Head of Security. "Could you…" he handed the other Autobot a datapad.

Ironhide took it with a smirk. "I'll have it on your desk by the evening."

"Thankyou Ironhide."

Then Prowl made to leave the room.

Well, poor Red Alert wasn't going to have that! He'd had quite enough of being ignored, and was quite prepared to do something about it. He stepped between Prowl and the door, and blocked the portal with his frame.

_Now,_ he thought. _Unless Prowl wants to run into me, he has to stop this charade and acknowledge me._

But he did not get the acknowledgment he so craved.

Prowl continued walking towards the doorway until he walked square into Red Alert, making them both step back and grunt in surprise.

Prowl looked around incredulously. He had bumped into something? Was he malfunctioning? He couldn't see anything in the doorway, or in the corridor beyond it for that point. Something was blocking the door though. He quickly came to the logical conclusion:

"Mirage?"

Red Alert screamed in frustration. Loudly. He started shouting expletives at the vice commander, cursing to almighty levels Prowl's insistence that he wasn't there.

Not that anyone noticed.

Ironhide swivelled around in his chair to see the Datsun still in the room. "Proll'em?"

Prowl turned his head to look at the red mech. "I bumped into something." He said. "I think it's Mirage."

Ironhide looked about. That was the logical thing to think when you ran into something invisible. But, this time, Ironhide knew better.

"Naw, couldn't be." He said. Noting Prowl's expression, he pointed to one monitor, where, plain as day, the spy could be seen speaking with Windcharger in another hallway.

Prowl narrowed his optics at the Mirage on the screen. If he was there, then what did he…?

Returning his gaze to the seemingly empty doorway, Prowl's battle computer began running to try and determine who else could become invisible… and came up with zero after zero. Frowning, he reached a hand out towards the doorway to try and reach whatever… or whoever… was there.

Red Alert squealed and desperately grabbed the vice's outstretched hand, having dropped out of his ranting spasmus and was starting to think clearly. It was at this point that he noticed; he was invisible!

The Lamborghini cursed himself for being so panicked (and hung-over prior to that) that he hadn't noticed the total and utter _transparency_ of his own body. That was one mystery solved then, he supposed. They weren't ignoring him, they really, truly, could not see him.

But that didn't explain why they couldn't _hear_ him. Frowning, he said a few words out loud, just to make certain that he was indeed making the sounds he thought he was, and it did indeed seem like he wasn't just hallucinating his talking.

Prowl frowned deeper. He could feel someone grabbing his hand like one might for a lifeline. It was certainly a 'someone' then. Now, to deal with it. Whomever it was seemed to be holding onto him for dear life. Perhaps he was hurt? Well, there was only one thing to do in that case, wasn't there. Gently, he ushered the invisible one out of the security office, and began to lead him towards the medbay, making certain to keep in physical contact with the mystery invisible bot, so as not to lose him.

Red Alert let the Datsun lead him, quickly working out where he was taking him. Going to medical was just fine with him. He'd been in Ratchet's clutches so many times now it just didn't bother him anymore.

He just hoped Ratchet knew a remedy for this particular problem.

Prowl announced his entry to the medical ward with a coughing sound. Ratchet ignored him on that point, choosing to continue with the mind numbing administrative task he was doing on the grounds that the tactician looked perfectly healthy. But he couldn't help but notice how the vice seemed to be holding his arm an odd way. Finally, he looked up at the 2IC.

"Okay, I'll bite. What have you done?" The medic asked.

"Discovered something unseeable." Was Prowl's unusually cryptic answer.

"So you found Mirage. Yay."

Prowl shook his head. "It's not Mirage. I don't know who it is."

"And you expect me to do what exactly?"

"Make him visible."

"Uh huh."

First Aid looked up from the notepad he was recording inventory on across the room. "You could splash him with paint." The junior medic suggested. "Then you could see him."

Ratchet fought back a sigh, and attempted to ignore the low volume chuckling that was beginning to sound from across the bay. Primus, he was glad he wasn't under any strange drugs any more, but did that custom _really_ have to hang out here?

"Well then, fetch some paint and splash him, smarty-mech." Ratchet huffed.

First Aid scurried away.

Red Alert found the idea of being splashed with paint did not amuse him. But, it was preferable to being invisible. If he wanted to be seen, he'd have to submit to the paint treatment.

First Aid swiftly returned with a bucket of green paint. "Okay, where do I splash?"

Prowl turned to face the empty corridor behind him. Keeping his other hand clasped on the unseen hand, he pat the other up the arm to the shoulder.

"Here."

"Right."

Red Alert shut his optics and waited for the embarrassing event of being dumped with a bucket of paint.

When he opened them again, he was covered from head to boot in what could be described as Hound green paint. Yay. He looked up. Well, they could see him now. But judging from the looks on their faces, they weren't expecting to see him.

"…R-Red Alert?" Prowl said after a pause. "YOU can become invisible?"

"No! I can't! I don't LIKE being invisible!"

The others frowned. They could see the security director's mouth moving, but no sound was coming out. That… was a problem.

Across the room, a certain mech's chuckling evolved into a full laugh.

Ratchet ignored it as best he could and stepped closer to the visible but green Red Alert. "I wonder what's wrong with his vocal circuits." The medic mused, checking him over for any damage. He was quite intact in light of these events, he thought, no frizzed wires or anything. "Well, Red, come over here and I'll have a look at you."

Red Alert knew better than to argue with their dear CMO, and trotted over to the indicated berth, leaving a trail of green footprints in his wake. As Ratchet began to work on the mute mech, the laughing from across the room finally reached its peak in the form of perfect hysterics, followed by the thud of a mech falling off a chair.

Ratchet sighed and paused in his inspection of Red Alert to look up at the black mech, currently laughing himself stupid on the floor, clutching his sides.

"And what, dare I ask, is so fragging funny?!" The medic barked.

Arcdash reigned in his merriment to a chuckle once more. He looked at his dear friend the medic, before changing trajectory to the green splattered mech currently in his grasp. "It's no fun being ignored, is it, Red Alert?" He asked.

Red Alert's optics widened in realisation, and started cursing the mech in a manner that would have made Ratchet's paint peel had he been able to hear it. The black Datsun custom just seemed to think it was funny, and continued to laugh.

The implications were not lost on the medic and tactician, however.

"What did you do?" Prowl demanded.

"Spit it out Dash! What did you do to him?!" Ratchet added.

Arcdash chuckled and wandered over to the berth where Ratchet and Red Alert were. He looked down at the mech. "On the charge of Hindrance of Duties in the third degree, this mech finds you guilty." He paused, and performed a Caesar-esque 'thumbs down' over Red Alert's helm. "And duly punished."

And with that, the black mech bolted from the bay, giggling the entire way.

"'Hindrance of Duties?' You?" Ratchet looked down at his patient, who was busy complaining in unheard words that he had no idea what the black mech was talking about either.

Ratchet looked at Prowl.

"You fix Red." Said he. "I'll deal with Arcdash."

"Good. Just don't send him crying to me."

- - -

When Prowl finally found Arcdash, he was seated in the common room, surrounded by a group of other Autobots. This was certainly strange, as most of the time, the majority of the Ark's population deemed the black Datsun custom to be one of those mechs you just don't affiliate with if you can help it. Much in the same manner as many regarded Sunstreaker.

Speaking of the yellow ray of sunshine, he and his twin entered the room at that moment, and Prowl noticed Arcdash look up at them.

"Sides! Sunny! You're just in time!"

The twins looked over at the strange mech. "For what?" Sideswipe asked as the pair of them wandered over to look at the computer the black mech was manipulating.

"For the show." Arcdash pressed a button on the keypad, and stepped back to let the other Autobots see the screen better.

At first there was nothing. Then the camera focused on a rather crudely made title card that read; "Caramelldansen! Featuring, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe!"

There were a few guffaws, and a "Buh?" from both twins.

A rather upbeat electronic song started, and the title card was pulled away from the camera to reveal the two warriors, performing what had to be the most ridiculous dance any of the mechs had ever seen. Hands up by their helms, the two were just standing there, moving their hips from left to right in perfect synchronisation, without pause.

The crowd of Autobots found this quite entertaining, some having better success at restraining their laughter at this point than others.

The twins were not entertained.

The forty foot terrors were about to whirl around and pound the black Datsun flat when they noticed something else on the screen. An image of Arcdash himself danced on screen behind the twins, having a grand old time spinning around and dancing his own way to the music, waving what appeared to be two Autobot sized paper fans adorned with the Japanese flag around. After a few moments, the mech danced off screen again, only to return with another title card, which he held in front of the camera in a way that you could still see the oblivious and still dancing twins behind him. The card earned a few more laughs from the audience, as it read;

"This production brought to you by ALCOHOL! The power to totally deactivate someone's common sense and embarrassment facilities!"

That time Sunstreaker managed to pull his enraged optics away from the screen to the giggling mech behind them. He opened his mouth to talk, when another chuckle erupted from the group. He turned back.

On the screen, Arcdash was once again dancing behind them, when Sideswipe stopped and looked back at the black mech. While Sunstreaker kept dancing, the red warrior asked, "Daaaash… how long do we gotta do this for?"

"Till the end of the song."

Sideswipe seemed to take a while to process that, before smirking and nodding. "Okay!"

The red Lamborghini moved to resume the dance, but at the completely opposite junction to his brother. Their afts connected in the middle and both toppled over, falling off the bottom of the screen.

The Autobots, and the Arcdash on the screen, burst out laughing. The laughter intensified as the two mechs picked themselves up, and just looked at each other, confused.

Sideswipe heard over the laughter someone asking the Datsun behind them, "Just how much did they drink?!"

Arcdash was too amused to reply.

On the screen, Arcdash trotted over to the twins, put a hand on their flanks and started them dancing in sync again. They shrugged and took up the dance again with no argument, and the crowd laughed all the harder.

Finally, as the song was entering the final verse, the twins managed to pull their optics away from the screen, and levelled them at the mech behind them, who was dancing about in the space at the back of the crowd in a similar manner to how he was dancing on the screen. He saw the looks on the faces of the two Lamborghini hellions, and with a grin, took up the final verse.

_"__S kom och  
Dansa med oss  
Klappa era hnder  
Gr som vi gr  
Ta ngra steg t vnster  
Lyssna och lr  
Missa inte chansen  
Nu r vi hr med  
Caramelldansen!"_

Arcdash bolted as the two warriors lunged after him, and he fled the room, still laughing and still singing at the top of his vocaliser.

Prowl stepped to one side to let them pass, before opening a com line to Ratchet.

"Did you find the fragger?" The medic asked without hesitation. "Because I need words with the sod. What ever the runt did he must have learned from one of my staff, because this is of medical standard! He's deactivated Red's vocaliser, but somehow rewired Red to think he can still hear the words he's trying to say!"

"Did you find out what made him invisible?" Prowl asked.

"Yeah, the slimy little bastard. He swiped some of Mirage's stuff. He planned this thing right down to the letter! But I can't think of why he'd do this to Red."

Prowl listened to the enraged howls of the twins and Dash's laughter echoing up the hallway, and an event surfaced in his mind.

"It may have had something to do with that prank of Sideswipe's not long ago."

"But why target Red for something that Pit Spawn did?"

"Dash claimed Red Alert was guilty of hindering him in the third degree. In human law, third degree is unwitting accomplice. I suppose Sunstreaker gets second degree and Sideswipe first, if we're running on the same pattern here."

"I still don't follow."

"Sideswipe glued Arcdash to the _wall_, Ratchet. Red Alert could have easily seen him on the security feeds but sent no assistance for several hours."

"Why not get back the fragging twins then?"

Prowl turned his head to the group of Autobots huddled around the screen, who were fiddling with the computer controls to get the short film to play again.

"Arcdash's revenge on all three Lamborghinis has been enacted, Ratchet. The twins just got theirs in the common room."

There was a pause.

"Should I prepare for the arrival of another patient?" Ratchet asked, knowing full ell what happened when someone fragged off the twins.

"Not sure. There is a lot more cunning to Arcdash than he lets on."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

A/N: Caramelldansen win. Not mine. Don't sue me.


End file.
